


Squall Leonhart the Art Admirer?

by nickknack44 (MilesCaligo)



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: AU, F/M, From a prompt, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesCaligo/pseuds/nickknack44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squall goes to a charity benefit at an art gallery in Deling City.<br/>AU with Squall and Rinoa meeting for the first time at an art gallery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squall Leonhart the Art Admirer?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SummonerLuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummonerLuna/gifts).



Squall Leonhart was out of place. His world did not comprise of people in suave suits and extravagant gowns, crowding around an art gallery for a charity benefit. In fact it was the complete opposite. His world was grounded in reality, dealing with cold hard truths, and issues that left him wishing he could just disappear every once in a while. But here in Deling City or at the very least in this art gallery the people lived their lives up in the clouds above the rest of the world’s problems. They attended their Galas and parties while countries were at war with each other. He honestly hadn’t wanted to come but as Cid’s second in command and the face of Balamb Garden he had to keep up appearances.

He couldn’t handle the people and their idiotic attitudes so after making the rounds with Cid he had slipped away into the gallery to try and actually appreciate his surroundings. He walked the hallways quietly, akin to a ghost and it’s haunting grounds. Every few minutes laughter echoed down the hallways causing him to peer over his shoulder hoping to keep his solace for as long as possible. It amazed him how each artist had their own individual style and vision, reflecting their culture and personalities. While in school as a cadet he had taken an interest to art but it had been fleeting because of all the time dedicated to mastering the gunblade.

He paused in front of a painting that had a … sense of simplicity to it. A rail of train tracks stretched out into the horizon with water on either side, giving it a warm feeling with the setting sun lighting the surface. There were no trains on the tracks but after squinting he thought he could see someone walking on the tracks, their back to the painting. “What an idiot, the train could come any second.” He sighed and continued walking. This was going to be a long night if all he did was admire paintings. He passed a large canvas without stopping to look at it, in his peripheral vision all he had seen was a dark canvas. It had been an oil painting of a shooting star in the night sky, with by a luminous trail.

Eventually he came to the end of the hallway where a painting was resting inside a glass case. As he walked closer he saw that there was a sign on the glass that read, “La Nuit Dernière, on auction starting at 600,000 gil” Squall was amazed that somebody would pay that for a piece of art he sure as hell wouldn’t. He took a step forward and gazed over the art. It was a skyline of Deling City complete with people strolling around going about their business. The lights of the shopping district lit the sky, leaving no room for the stars. The Gateway stood in the center, a monument of the past surrounded by modern day living.

“What do you think of it?” Squall spun around, his brain hardwired to react from training. A young woman with black hair wearing a short ivory dress stood with a smile on her face and a small clutch in her hand. She strode towards him and stared at the painting, the smile fading away. Squall didn’t know how to react so he turned and examined the painting some more. Does she think I’m weird for not being near the party? He looked over at her and watched her intently.

“You still didn’t answer me, handsome stranger.” She laughed lightly and turned, facing him. “Go on tell me what you think of it, does it make you feel anything?”

Why does she care what I think? I’m not an art collector or anything. “Crowded.” He stated simply. A frown crossed her face as she stared at him, then gestured with her hands; basically saying, “and?” What does it matter to her? “It feels so busy but I guess it captures the essence of the city that way.” There maybe now she’ll leave me alone.

“That’s a good perception. To me it has a sort of sadness you know? Everyone is just going on with their lives in a rush, not taking the time to acknowledge what’s around them.” She sighed and faced the painting again but she was focusing on only one area. Squall followed her gaze to a large mansion with a bridge as the walkway from the street. Does she wish she lived there or something? Squall then noticed a small detail that had escaped him before. There was a collision between a limousine and a sports car a few yards from the mansion’s driveway, the sports car was smashed into the side of the limo with smoke emitting from it. Why would somebody put that in their painting? That’s pretty morbid.

He looked away for a second to find the woman’s eyes on him. “Do you see that car accident?” Tears were welling in her eyes as she spoke and Squall stared solemnly. She continued, “My Mom was killed in that car accident many years ago, this painting is dedicated to her. Most people don’t notice it though, they focus on the glamour of the city.” The last few words were spoken with a harsh disdain. She’s the artist. Squall stood there staring at the limousine unsure of what to do. Should I comfort her? I don’t even know her.

“I’m sorry ma’am.” Squall kicked himself mentally, ma’am? He hadn’t even called Quistis that and she was his Instructor. “The painting in itself is beautiful though, Ms.” She looked up at him and smiled lightly before turning and taking a few steps away. She looked over her shoulder the smile still on her face.

“I’m Rinoa, Rinoa Caraway.” Her heels clicked on the hard floor as she walked away, leaving Squall wondering how she had snuck up on him. He stayed at the painting for about 10 minute taking n every detail. No matter where his eyes wandered they always wound up at the accident. He sighed and spun around and walked off headed for the main area where the charity was. As he walked off still didn’t notice the shooting star painting.

 

“Sold to the man in the blue and gold uniform!” Squall walked up to the auctioneer who was standingin front of the painting, shook his hand and took the painting to the lounge where his boss Cid was. “What are you planning to do with that? Hang it in your dorm?”

“It’s a gift, actually.” I don’t think this would even fit in my dorm, he needs to think before he speaks sometimes. Squall hadn’t looked to see where Rinoa after making his way back to the room filled with debutantes and social icons. Hopefully he could catch up to her. If not he had a good idea where to send it.

Dear Rinoa,

I get it now, why you acted the way you did. I’m sorry you were expecting more from me but I’m almost as clueless as the socialites sometimes. I know nothing I could ever do would fix it but I’m sorry. Your mother would be proud of you.

Squall Leonhart

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! This is one in what will hopefully be a series of oneshots/drabbles/ficlets I write from tumblr prompts.


End file.
